


Eons

by eboyklavier



Category: Subarashiki Kono Sekai | The World Ends With You
Genre: Gen, I don't know how to tag this to be honest, I wish these two met in canon so much, Not Beta Read
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:54:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26057554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eboyklavier/pseuds/eboyklavier
Summary: Megumi Kitaniji wanders through the lively streets to the quiet back alleys of Shibuya, where he comes across an unfamiliar artist with a warm smile.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	Eons

The bustling atmosphere of the city streets was a hectic change of pace to Megumi’s usual daily life. He moved swiftly amongst the crowds of humans that filled the lanes of the roads, weaving between the pockets of imagination that constantly bloomed like a flower in the spring. The ebony-haired man advanced along the buzzing streets, dancing to constant drum beat that echoed throughout all of life. 

Ruby headphones hung loosely around slender shoulders, dulling the constant orchestra of humanity to only a distant tune. Walking along to the tempo of a metronome, Megumi wandered with no destination in mind, seemingly lost in the moment. Going wherever fate took him; Megumi tended to stick to that. Never one to speak up, or to be brave. He was happy to take a backseat in the journey of life – if the constellations had a plan for him, who was he to argue?

Megumi sauntered throughout the lively streets, bathed in golden sunlight reminiscent of a trumpet playing proudly. He strolled amongst the sullen backstreets, where the sunlight never reached, a lingering echo of a fermata. But amongst the music, the clashing of drums and brass, the one Megumi served was not within them.   
To conduct, to lead the orchestra of Shibuya, that was Megumi’s job. But, the Composer, He who created the music, was not present. Megumi had searched for him within the streets, yet the fires and winds that blew through the souls was lacking in His presence. So, Megumi sought out the silence. The empty backstreets that housed the ghosts of Shibuya. The stillness and tranquility engulfed the man as he stepped away from the sunlight, contrasting the natures of the city. 

Megumi hesitated, feeling the thick soundlessness weigh on his shoulders. But like an invisible string, the familiar tug of fate pulled on his heartstrings and propelled him further into the byroad. Heavy footsteps grew light, and the drums beating at accelerando to adagio. Megumi marched forward, sensing an almost-holy atmosphere further down. A hushed silence filled the air, and Megumi noticed how even in the dark, plants grew among the cracks of the sidewalk. A faint breeze floated gently through, carrying songs and stories on its breeze. The leaves of the plants faced east, greeting the morning sun that barely reached. As he continued further, Megumi felt as though the plants were slightly greener, the shadows shorter, and the breeze cooler.   
The silence was interrupted by a faint noise. Megumi squinted, attempting to identify the noise. He followed the path, and the sound grew louder. A rattling sound, and then a rush of air – Spray paint? Was someone down here, he wondered? Turning the corner, his question was answered. 

A hunched figure was in the center of the street, drawing elaborate paintings on the wall. Discarded cans of paint sprawled around him, the artist seemingly unaware of the state he left them in. His arm moved easily, careful eyes creating an immaculate picture. Moving elegantly and easily, the artist appeared lost in his own fantasy. Megumi stepped closer, gaining a clearer look of the man. Dark hair spiked out in a forward angle, his face angular and jagged, and wearing an outfit reminiscent of a café barista.   
Megumi considered him with curiosity. The picture he was painting on the wall had an odd aura about it – Not a bad one, but unique. As though the art had a voice and it were speaking. The whooshing of air stopped as the artist noticed the presence of the observer. 

“Oh, Hello!” They spoke easily, as if they had predicted Megumi would arrive. Megumi hadn’t been expecting to see anyone on his wanderings, let alone talk to anyone. Thankful for his glasses that hid his eyes, Megumi cleared his throat and coughed out a rather pathetic “Hello” in response.

“Something catch ‘yer eye?” The man spoke, stepping back from his work to look over it from a distance.   
“Oh, I was simply wandering, I didn’t mean to come off in any way.” Megumi responded, internally hoping the man wouldn’t be weirded out. So maybe Megumi was awkward around others – His job didn’t usually involve him speaking to others casually, after all. But the man didn’t seem put off by Megumi, instead opting to offer him a warm smile.   
“Most younger folks call me Mr. Hanekoma, but you’re welcome to call me Sanae.” He spoke with familiarity, as though he were talking to someone he’d met before. One might consider it strange, yet Megumi felt himself pulled in by the sunny disposition of the man.   
“Kitaniji. Megumi Kitaniji.” Megumi awkwardly held out a hand. The artist, Sanae Hanekoma, returned it with a firm handshake. 

“I like your style. Not something I see around often.” Sanae spoke with a breezy confidence with a nod to Megumi’s outfit. Megumi’s particular fashion sense usually gained a few raised eyebrows from observers, due to the rather dated clothing sense.   
“Thank you.” Megumi offered simply, unsure of how to reply. His cold exterior usually warded off any particularly stubborn folks, yet the artist seemed unfazed. Sanae turned back to his work, humming quietly to himself. Megumi stood to the side, content to watch the man trace patterns on the wall. The quiet was unfamiliar yet welcoming, creating a feeling reminiscent to the sun on a cold winter’s morning.  
Perhaps, Megumi mulled, he had found something worth looking for. The clashing of city people seemed to be a distant past, as a soft melody flowed through the area the two were in. Washing away the worries of the city, Megumi let himself relax. Perhaps, if there were more people like Sanae Hanekoma in the city, Megumi wouldn’t have to worry about the Composer’s possible destructive tendencies. 

Comfortable stillness wrapped around them like a blanket, and for the first time in a while, Megumi found himself enjoying the moment.

**Author's Note:**

> I...didn't know how to end this, I'm sorry. I tried to push myself with describing things, hopefully it shows through?  
> I just wanted to write a little thing to lift my spirits, big apologies if it doesn't make sense. Thanks for reading. <3


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